“Pray–While You’re Pulling Weeds”

As you face daily challenges, do you ever wonder how much is your part and how much is God’s? Oh, I do.

During those times, I like to ponder a childhood scene from my Kentucky farm days. Our community was filled with hard workers who prided themselves on healthy livestock, neat yards, and productive gardens. But one farmer, whom I’ll call Abe, preferred sitting to working.

In the morning, he’d sit on his porch and watch the sun rise above the rolling hills. In the evening, he’d watch the sun set behind the hickory trees at the back of his property. Each spring, in a burst of energy, he’d plant a big garden but then neglect it. His family often ran short of food and would need help from neighbors.

Folks frowned at his wastefulness, but my “waste not, want not” grandmother, Mama Farley, was growing increasingly frustrated. Finally, the day came when she grabbed my five-year-old hand, and we marched down the road to Abe’s house. As usual, he was sitting on his porch.

“Well, now,” he said. “What brings y’all out so early?”

Mama got right to the point. “Abe, you’ve planted another fine garden, but it’s going to weed—just like before. You’ve got a family to feed.”

He smiled. “Now, Miz Farley, the Lord always provides. All I have to do is pray.”

Mama frowned, but she stayed calm.

“Well, Abe,” she said. “Why don’t you pray while you’re in your garden pulling weeds?”

Oh, yes. So even these years later, I try to pull my “weeds” by doing what I can do. And I pray as I pull. What weeds do you need to tackle?

About sandrapaldrich

Sandra P. Aldrich, author and popular speaker, loves the Lord, family and all things Appalachian. Isaiah 41:9-10
This entry was posted in Appalachia, grandmothers, prayer and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.

4 Responses to “Pray–While You’re Pulling Weeds”

  1. Reminds of my aunt’s farm in a rural area of Tennessee and how she worked canning, churning, milking, etc. She worked hard, and her family always had plenty to eat.

    Like

  2. lynnhw says:

    My Dad raised a big garden. Mom, my sister, and I all planted, weeded, and harvested. My little brother helped when he grew big enough. Us 3 kids would sneek out to the garden and enjoy pulling and eating. Now weeds tend to grow in my garden, weeds of doubt, anger, bad thoughts. I think of Dad’s big garden, and read my Bible. It reminds me to pull out those weeds.

    Like

Leave a comment